Growth

After coming to the conclusion that our youngest son was in the midst of his longest developmental plateau to date, and resigning ourselves to the fact that this school year may not result in much growth, he once again changed the game.  Our life with him seems to be a constant battle to see what will work for him and what will not.  What will help him grow and develop?  What will help him progress?  What worked one week or one month isn't guaranteed to work the next.  The rules seem to change like the seasons.

Fortunately, we have been seeing signs that this developmental plateau is transitioning to a minor developmental growth spurt.  Our son has recently had a greater awareness of his social status among his peers.  Although his blindness to this was beneficial in the past, it also kept him from having an awareness of what was really socially acceptable to his peers and what was not.  It has been hard to help him negotiate this growing awareness that not everyone is his friend or has positive intentions for him.  His social blindness shielded him to a large degree from peers who may have been prone to tease him or make him feel bad about his stuttering, blocking, and other less than socially acceptable behaviors.  His new awareness, although painful, offers a degree of self-motivation to want to do better and change the behavior.  

Until recently, our son had little interest in completing homework or staying caught up on his work.  When you spend most days inside without recess because you are behind with your work, this becomes "normal" to you.  Being kept inside because you are behind in your work or you need extra help, has little impact on someone who, more often than not, doesn't get the opportunity to go outside. any way.  Recently, our son has taken an interest in staying caught up with his work because he has a buddy.  He wants to be able to go outside and play with him and his other friends.  Because of that desire to spend time with this friend, he has brought home math boxes that he should have finished in class and weren't assigned as homework.   He's even snuck home essays and other writing assignments that needed re-written or finished so he wouldn't get further behind in class.  This is a HUGE change.  He cares about his schoolwork.  He wants to do better.

Our son started the school year failing most of his reading tests and many of the class assignments.  We were very concerned and questioned what we needed to do to help him do better.  The education team was at a loss for recommendations because what was causing the failing grades was inconsistent.  It changed from test to test.  Since the Christmas break, he has been bringing home reading tests that were passing.  Most recently, he has even brought home some A's and B's.  Amazing!  What has changed?  Nothing on our end.  We still read the stories with him.  We still study the vocabulary words and definitions.  We still help him complete the reading assignments and quiz him on the stories.  We are doing nothing different.

Our son has developed a love for writing.  He loves to write and act out stories and plays.  He writes and performs songs.  Because of this love, his aunt bought him a book of children's plays for Christmas.  His grandfather made him a puppet stage and his grandmother bought him puppets.  My husband and I bought him a series of puppets to add to his "actors".  Our basement looks like a mad writers/actors domain.  It is filled with "scenes" in the midst of action.  Stuffed animals are arranged in unique vignettes waiting to be acted out.  He can't get enough of being read to.  His love of language and stories may account for his improvement in this area in school.  

Because of his expressive language issues, it is still very painful for him to read his assignments to us.  As a result, we take turns reading with him.  We try to give him the shortest sections.  On days when he is very jammed up with blocking and stuttering, we do almost all of the reading but spend extra time discussing the stories and questioning him on the content.  I have also started looking into computer programs that help by reading the information with him/for him.  He needs to expand his reading capability but with an expressive delay, it is an interesting challenge to balance these needs.  We continue to explore the options available to him.

Math has been an area of strength for our son for a couple years now.  Once he started "getting it", math just seemed to click for him.  His ability to set up formulas and answer computation problems amazes me.  He can solve puzzles and word finds and math based computer games in a way that I cannot.  Timed math tests were the bane of our existence because timed anything for a child with expressive delays is a nightmare.  Thankfully, this should be his last year in which he is required to complete these tests.  Hopefully.

In the past, getting our son to clean up his room or the basement has been an exercise in futility and frustration.  Recently, we have been able to get our son to side step his extreme agitation with the assigned task by breaking it down into small steps.  For example, when faced with the need to clean up a mess, we can suggest a specific type of item to pick up first.  "Go pick up all your legos first."  By picking up one type of item at a time, he avoids becoming overwhelmed by the assigned task.  Writing specific lists that allow him to cross off each item as he completes it, also seems to reduce his frustration.

Finally, and most importantly for those of us that live with him and love him, our son seems to be slowly developing the ability to pull back from a meltdown.  In recent months, there have been several instances where he seemed to be ramping up for a meltdown but was able to successfully calm down and rationalize.  He was able to work through the moment without losing complete control.  His solution at one time for escaping a meltdown was to run away from us.  He would physically run out the door and run around the yard, yelling and screaming.  He would run upstairs and hide.  He would run back to our bedroom and hide in the bathroom closet.  Recently, when told to stop, don't run away, talk to us, he has had more and more moments when he could stop and work it out.  For our family, this area of growth is probably the most significant.  The meltdowns are the most draining and painful for us to live with.  Growth in this area would have the most positive impact on our family.  

Little changes can have a large effect on a family.  When you watch a loved one struggle on a daily basis, it's very hard to sit by and do nothing.  These signs of growth have breathed fresh air into our lives.  We have lived with the frustration of this current plateau for far too long.  I'm grateful for these signs.  I pray they continue.  Don't give up.  Change could be right around the corner.

Melt down vs. Temper Tantrum

I began writing this blog years ago as a form of therapy.  I needed an outlet to voice my pain, fears, and frustration.  Conversely, I felt a desire to express the great joy that comes with being the parent of such an extraordinary son as ours.  As an educator, I also felt the need to educate others about children like our son.  Children that seem to be stuck in the middle.  They aren't "normal" but they also aren't severely "special".  They are only mildly special.  I wanted other parents experiencing a similar journey to know that they aren't alone.  I also wanted those who sit in judgement of parents to recognize that often there are circumstances beyond their understanding.  Compassion can go a very long way.

One area of parenting that seems to bring the most swift and negative judgements from others are melt down behaviors.  After the morning that we experienced, I felt the need to "educate" others about the difference between a melt down and a temper tantrum.  I assure you that there is a clear and definitive difference.  According to the U.S. National Library of Medicine, "temper tantrums are unpleasant and disruptive behaviors or emotional outbursts.  They often occur in response to unmet needs or desires.  Tantrums are most likely to occur in younger children or others who cannot express their needs or control their emotions when they get frustrated."  A melt down can be very different.  They are not caused by a spoiled child not getting a toy or treat.  It is not being told no you can't go to the zoo.  Quite often, they appear to be triggered by completely innocent or even indecipherable causes.  In other words, they appear to be brought on by actions that would not trigger a "normal" child to tantrum.

This morning our son woke himself up REVVED!  He bound out of bed full of excitement, sound, and movement.  Our oldest son reported that when he ran to the bathroom to brush his teeth, our youngest son brushed his teeth while running in place.  He said his feet were moving faster than his toothbrush.  As he launched himself into the day, he rushed for his Kindle and started to load a game.  He brother intervened and cautioned him that he should plug his Kindle into its charger because it only had forty-five percent battery life and he would want it for the fire hall breakfast.  Those words were the trigger.  Not "you can't have it".  Not "put that down and stop playing now".  A simple reminder that it needed charged so he would have it to use for the day.

Those simple words issued for his benefit, launched our youngest so into a melt down.  He started screaming and running and panicking.  When I attempted to intervene, slow him down, and explain what his brother was trying to say, he began to manically fight back, pushing and screaming.  His eyes were glazed over.  He was repetitively saying the same phrases over and over.  I asked him to cuddle with me for a few minutes.  "Let's just lay down here and calm our breathing.  Relax."  He lay down for less than a minute, body tight, breathing escalated before he started repeating the same phrases over and over again.  He couldn't pull himself out of it.  He was experiencing a melt down.

Please keep in mind that this was 6 am.  Six in the morning.  Our day started with a complete melt down at 6 am as we prepared to go to the fire hall to volunteer for a breakfast fundraiser.  At the peak of our son's meltdown, my husband quickly finished his shower, dressed, and stepped into the moment.  His intervention at that moment snapped our son out of his "state" and he was able to slowly regain control.

We have often experienced that if a melt down cannot be prevented, one parent must ride the storm to the peak.  If we time it correctly, the other parent can step in, state the same words or explanation that the other parent had been attempting to convey, but the intervention of a different person at just the right moment "snaps him out of it".  The problem occurs when we are home alone and he goes into such a state.  Unfortunately, the only solution on those occasions has been to ride out the storm until our son exhausts himself.

As my husband patiently explained the same information to our son that his older brother and I had attempted to convey to him, I silently started sobbing.  It's a horrible experience.  To know that your son is so out of control.  To know that you are helpless to get through to him.  The fear that these moments will never stop, that he will continue to get bigger and stronger and harder to manage, hurts so deep inside that you wonder if that ache will ever heal.

But it does.  And life goes on.  Socks and shoes get put on.  Pills get taken.  Coats get put on and you continue with your day.  For the child, it's over.  His day is still "glitchy".  Things don't seem to connect or click on these days.  You can see the neurological causation at work in other areas more profoundly on these days.  Speech is more bumpy.  Movement is less coordinated.  Thinking is less focused.  Impulsiveness is more prevalent.  For you, these experiences are never truly over because that ache is still there.  You don't know when, where,  or even why the next melt down is coming.

Positives?  Can there be a positive with such an experience?  Today as our son ranted and raced and raved, he stated multiple times "I haven't done this for awhile.  I haven't done this in a long time."  There is the positive.  For the first time ever, there was a verbal recognition on his part that this behavior is not okay.  It is not acceptable.  It must end and not be repeated.  It also tells us that he has been trying to NOT melt down.  He wants to do better... And he has been.  He is correct.  We have not had a melt down in awhile.  I pray it is the last.  That is always my prayer.

A Glimpse into the Future

Sometimes life offers you a glimpse of what your life could be.  We had one of those moments today.  As a treat, my husband and I decided to take our youngest son out for lunch while we were doing some running.   It was at the restaurant that we had a chance to see what life could look like for our youngest son if we don't continue to work to change that trajectory.

At the local pizza shop, a tall man approached us and started speaking loudly to my husband in a familiar manner.  I tuned out the conversation as I attempted to keep our son from spinning off and touching things before we ordered and got him corralled at a table.  When the worker stepped up to the counter and took our order, the other man continued to stand closely to my husband and loudly share a story with him about a time they had eaten lunch together.  I continued to ignore the conversation since our youngest had started trying to tell the worker what he wanted to eat and I wanted to ensure that the young man understood him.  As soon as he had completed his order, my son started to rush toward the drink machine to attempt to dispense his own soda.  I was attempting to intervene and slow him down when I realized my husband was still trying to pay the bill as the tall man continued to loudly talk to him while standing too close for socially accepted behavior.  It was at that point that I tuned in and realized this was a grown man in his early thirties with obvious mental health and/or developmental issues.  It was also obvious that he was well known to the employees and most of the patrons.

We allowed our son to fill his drink as he loudly protested that he could do it.  As I put the lid on the drink and cautioned him to move slowly, our son again loudly proclaimed that he could do it.  At the same time, the tall man continued to loudly, and closely, continue to share his story with the same repetitive phrase popping up in the conversation.  He laughed loudly.  He talked loudly.  It was very clear that he lacked an awareness of social norms and expectations.

His behavior made me very uncomfortable.  Not for the obvious reasons.  Having worked in corrections for eighteen years, I had worked with more than my fair share of people with serious mental health issues.  What made me uncomfortable was the clear commonalities between this tall man and my tall son.  When I looked at this man, I could see a snapshot of what life could be like for my son in the future.  There were many parallels that gave me great unease.

I listened to the other patrons talk and interact with him in the other room.  One seemed to be egging him on to be loud and boisterous.  Some seemed to just want him to go away and leave them alone.  He clearly made them uncomfortable.  Most of the patrons and employees seemed familiar and comfortable with him.  They appeared to know how to help him keep himself under control.  At one point, the one employee said "Inside voice" in a firm yet kind voice.  The tall man repeated "Inside voice" then added "or get the hell out".  This was a conversation that must has occurred on more than one occasion at this establishment.  When the employee delivered our food, he started to apologize for the tall man and his behavior.  My husband reassured the young man that it was no problem, he knew the tall man and we understand he didn't know any better and he meant no harm.

The rest of the meal proceeded without incident and the pizza was DELICIOUS.  As we prepared to leave, my husband stopped to talk to the employees and another man that he knew.  Our son looked at the tall man sitting at a booth in the corner and declared "You're really loud!"  The tall man dropped his head and shook it with chagrin muttering "inside voice".  The moment struck me.  That could be my son in the future.  Loud.  Unaware of physical boundaries.  Unaware of social norms and expectations.  Tall and imposing until you realize that he meant no harm.  Egged on and over excitable with the wrong people.  This could be his future.

But it won't be.  This snapshot will not be my son.  My husband and I work too hard and too diligently.  We recognize his behavioral tendencies but we don't accept them as how he has to be.  We have made progress.  We will continue to make progress.  This will not be his future.  We will see to it.  God has a plan for our son.  We will prepare him for it.

Reflecting on Progress

When you are raising children, there is no pause button.  There is very little time to stop to catch your breath.  Needs must be met and life must go on.  Reflection is often a luxury.

As I have discussed in the past, our youngest son has been deeply entrenched in one of his regression periods of his unique developmental cycle.  It is probably the longest regression that we have experienced.  Because my husband and I are both problem solvers by nature, we strapped on our big people pants and did what needed to be done.  As discussed previously, we met with the neurological team to touch base and bring them up to speed.  Additionally, we enrolled him in out-patient occupational therapy (OT) bi-weekly and speech therapy weekly.  As usual, we stayed in close contact with his support team at school.  We questioned, nagged, and supported as needed.  

After the fall parent/teacher conference, my husband and I looked at each other and pretty much threw up our hands and said "Okay.  What will be, will be."  Everyone involved in his care, including ourselves, couldn't account for the longevity of this regression.  We were all frustrated.  He was impulsive, getting out of his seat; wandering around the classroom; forgetting his books, homework, and personal belongings.  He only passed reading by one point.  He had earned a C in science but miraculously an A in math.  His teacher, a long time veteran of the classroom, looked at us and said "I love his smile.  I love his personality.  He's so very sweet.  I simply do not know what to do with him or for him."  Wow!  Where do you go from there?  We offered suggestions and feedback but knew in actuality that none of us knew what to do with him and for him at this time.  In the past, we have been a resource for his teaching team when they encountered roadblocks with his progress.  We were at the point where we had nothing new to offer.  

As we left the conference that night, we felt helpless.  We went out to dinner for some quiet time as a couple and discussed where we were with our son.  Over dinner, we came to the consensus that we were giving him everything that we had to give.  He had our time, our energy, our focus, and our resources.  We had him in the care of one of the best neurologists his hospital had to offer.  They had touched base with outside resources to ask for suggestions and insight.  No one had anything new to offer.  Everyone on his team at the hospital, at home, and at school truly loved him and wanted the best for him.  Everyone was giving him 100% of what they had to offer.  It seemed to have very little impact.  We were all quite frustrated.  Over dinner, my husband and I decided that we would consider this year a draw.  If we could hold him to his current level of progress without further regression or loss of skills, we would feel successful.  We would be satisfied with our efforts.  When I went to bed that night, I earnestly prayed "God, your will be done.  I can't do more than I am.  I have nothing else to offer.  I'm not big enough for this.  I need your intervention."  Through the days that followed, that prayer became the mantra in the back of my mind.  

Then, when we least expected it, we started to notice change.  Progress.  Slow at first.  Painfully slow.  But progress.

He started bringing home his personal belongings.  That is HUGE!  He started using his reminder checklist at school that I had created for him.  As a result, he started remembering his homework agenda, papers, and books.  That was SUPER HUGE!  At home, he started writing.  Feverishly some days.  He created his own book full of fables.  He was writing plays and stories that he would act out with his stuffed animals.  Soon he was coming up with witty comments and jokes.  Language seemed to be very interesting to him and was becoming a part of his play and everyday activities.  Right before Christmas break, we had our first clear sign that things were taking an upward swing.  In one week, he brought home an A+ on a math test, an A on a science test, and two Cs on reading tests.  These were significant improvements.  

His speech has not changed.  Some days there is no stuttering, blocking, or hesitation.  None.  He has smooth speech.  Other days, he can't get out a single sentence or phrase without blocking and stuttering.  He has also started developing some secondary behaviors.  Secondary behaviors are behaviors that develop as an instinctive attempt to cope with stuttering and blocking.  He has started grimacing as he attempts to talk.  One a very bad day, he will stomp his foot or kick his leg like he's trying to physically jump the words out of his body.  The most painful secondary behavior to watch is when he uses his hands around his mouth.  Some days it looks like he is physically trying to pull the words or funnel the words out of his mouth.  This area of development has not improved but that is no surprise.  Speech has consistently been his biggest area of delay.  Improvement in this area would be Earth shattering. (Still, a girl can hope.)

As we return to school and work in a few days after the long holiday break, I am going to embrace my new mantra.  God this is too big for me.  I am not strong enough.  Your will be done.  In your time Lord.  I will continue to do all I can for him and his support teams but I also recognize that his needs are greater than me and my abilities.  I will embrace the embers of hope that we have been given.  Hopefully, they can be fanned into a flame that lights the way to greater progress.  

Giving Thanks

I've learned to try to embrace life, the good and the bad.  We never know how much time we are going to have here on Earth or how long we will have to enjoy our loved ones.  Some days it's easy to find the beauty.  Some days you have to look a little deeper.

For the last week or so, our youngest son seems to be barreling through life in a manic whirlwind.  Full throttle.  Happy.  Angry.  Frustrated.  Full intensity.  As a result, I can admit that I was looking forward to going to work with my oldest son while our youngest spent the day at home with his father.  It was a fun day for my oldest son to volunteer in my classroom with the little ones.  It gave him a chance to see me at work in an environment where I am usually happy and relaxed without the added edge I sometimes develop while at home.

My husband took our youngest son to speech therapy at the hospital as scheduled.  When our oldest son and I finished at school, we met them at the hospital so we could all go out for supper together.  The change in schedule and the opportunity to introduce his speech therapist to his brother sent our youngest son bouncing off the walls with excitement.  He literally bound from person to person handing out kisses and hugs and talking a mile a minute.  You could literally feel the energy pulsing off of him.

We had decided in advance that we would take them to our son's favorite Chinese restaurant.  The prospect of eating there increased his excitement exponentially.  He strutted through the doors on his tip toes, chest puffed out and declared "Hallelujah!  Praise the Lord!"  It took physical touch and constant verbal prompts to keep him from running into other patrons or spilling food and drink.  His excitement was a tangible thing.  I noticed several tables of other diners watching us curiously.  Fortunately, we were able to keep him fairly contained until we were preparing to leave.  His brother merely tossed his fortune from the fortune cookie onto a dirty plate covered in gooey sauce.  This sent our youngest into a tailspin.  He kept trying to grab the fortune that was now a yucky, sticky mess.  We had to physically sweep him out of the booth and usher him towards the door.  He exclaimed "I need it.  I need it to remember this night!"  The other men zoomed him out the door while I paid the bill as curious patrons gawked at the scene.

Thanksgiving morning dawned with the clanging of a large plastic carrot against a metal bowl.  This was our son's wake up call to the family.  Thanksgiving had begun.  It was one of those days where his energy was hard to contain.  We had a fight over socks and shoes.  (Yes, you must put them on to go out in 30 degree weather.)  We had a fight over cleaning up the toys, rakes, shovels, and wagon  he had left littered over the yard yesterday.  We had a fight over brushing his teeth.  (Sorry man, they must be brushed daily.)  We had a fight over refusing to take his meds.  (Are you kidding me?!?)  We had a fight over the ability to watch the Macy's Day parade AFTER he cleaned up his stuff outside.  We had a fight when he couldn't locate his Charlie Brown's Thanksgiving Day DVD.  Apparently, it was my fault that it couldn't be found.  We had tears over soda vs milk.  We had tears over the fact that we had RUINED Thanksgiving.

It was one of those days.

Once his extended family started arriving for lunch, he seemed to better harness his excitement that was coming out sideways all over the rest of us.  He had other people to talk to, share with, and entertain.  When his great-aunt agreed to play a board game with him, it gave him something to focus on and seemed to further de-escalate his excitability.

Through it all, truthfully, I wanted to scream.  I could feel his energy crawling into me and threatening to take me over.  I had to work to keep my cool and I'm not sure I was very successful.  My frustration was very evident.  I'm not proud of that.

On Thanksgiving evening, I am thankful for the joy in those crazy, chaotic moments.  His pride in sharing his family with his therapist.  The shared laughter of our family over dinner.  Curling up on the couch with him after we came home from the restaurant.  Reading him a bedtime story.  Cracking silly jokes over his wake up call.  Laughing at his game time conversations with his great-aunt.  Sharing stories.  I am thankful for the love that we share that helps us to move through the frustration and the challenges.  I continue to pray daily for strength, patience, and fortitude.  Maybe I need a vacation too.

Hanging In There

It often feels as if I find myself living in a world where it's very easy to quit. Many things in life that used to be considered constants, like marriage, family, and faith, seem very disposable these days.  Some things just shouldn't be given up on, no matter how hard it gets.

Life with our youngest son has never been easy.  It's easy to love him.  That smile.  That sparkle in his eyes.  That deep belly laugh that bubbles up.  Loving him is the easy part.  Raising him is not.  Preparing him for what's before him is not. Middle school is coming.  Far too soon.

Our son's behavior has stabilized to a managable level.  We have very few meltdowns these days.  He seems to have learned how to regulate his anger and frustration.  The manic repetitive behaviors that he can be prone to have diminished as well.  These are all very positive advancements.

My husband and I have known for awhile that our son was in the midst of another regression phase in his abnormal developmental cycle.  As I have discussed previously, he tends to experience a burst of development that eventually plateaus.  That plateau is most often followed by a regression period.  This phase is almost always accompanied by severe stuttering and blocking, increased drooling, inattentiveness, distractedness, clumsiness, and loss of self-help skills.  This period of regression is often followed by another burst of development.  Ironically, these regression phases often accompany a large growth spurt, almost as if his body can't physically grow and maintain intellectual development at the same time.

At our son's fourth grade parent teacher conference last week, his team was very frustrated.  They had implemented both traditional and creative methods to try to help our son stay on track, self-regulate, self-monitor, and learn.  Unfortunately, few of their efforts seem to be helping.  Their frustration directly mirrored the frustration my husband and I have been feeling at home.  At school, he is eating his pencils.  Actually eating his pencils.  Chewing the tips off.  Eating the erasers and metal ends.  He is wearing wrist bands and chew necklaces.  They tried chewing manipulatives.  I bought him chewable pencil toppers from the Autism Support website.  They tried gum, candy, sour hard candy.  Nothing seems to stop the chewing.

They cannot get him to focus or remain focused.  It requires physical touch to get him to go to his seat and keep him seated.  It's not oppositional behavior or aggressive behavior.  He simply gets up and wanders around.  He takes forever to get his belongings and settle in to work.  When seated, he stares into space or stares at his peers.  He forgets everything, including clothing, agendas, books, lunch bags, anything not attached to his body.  Things that we read and reviewed at home, things that we know that he knows and understands, he gets wrong on the tests.  There is no consistency to the type of questions that he gets wrong.  Nothing that can be pin pointed to focus on with our studying.  He is consistently inconsistent.

Against all odds, he scored a 91% in math on his report card. He was so excited.  He calls himself a math genius.  He scored a Satisfactory in science.  Predictably, he scored a 65% in reading on his report card.  Passing is 65%.  We wondered if bonus points were utilized.  Reading is a significant challenge for us each night.  Getting through the reading with a child that stutters and blocks is PAINFUL.  We have utilized many coping techniques including techniques from his speech sessions; a clear acrylic reading tracker; sharing/dividing up the passages; note cards/study cards; question and answer discussion, etc.  In spite of our best efforts, and their best efforts at school, he is passing by a single point.  It is especially frustrating because it isn't a true reflection of how very bright he is and what he is capable of.

His Title I teacher, his primary support and our primary contact with questions, concerns, and recommendations, is going on maternity leave in two weeks.  She will not return until March.  His classroom teacher is going on surgical leave in two weeks and will not return until January.  He isn't due to be tested by the school psychologist until March.  His Individualized Education Plan is not due for review until April.  His neurological team wants a full scale evaluation by the school team but that won't occur until the spring.  The kid that needs the most consistency will have none.  We are left with lots of questions but very few answers.

So what do we do?  Where do we go from here?

As a family, we keep life as consistent as possible.  We keep him in occupational therapy and speech therapy at the hospital.  We act as a resource for the school team, both old and new.  We continue to read and research, question, and challenge.  Our goal at this point is to keep him from regressing further.  We hope for growth but will not become disheartened if none occurs.  This year may be a wash with little progress gained.  Our frustration is that only puts him that much further behind his same age peers.  Unfortunately, we can't change his circumstances or his developmental cycle.  He is who he is.  The school circumstances are what they are.  We will continue to fight for him, fight with him, and support him every single step of the way.  We will give him our best.

Tears will be shed.  Fears will be faced.  I pray that progress will be made.  He is too important to give up on.  He is worth the effort.

Dealing With Change and Anxiety

Change is a normal part of life.  We all deal with it in different ways.  My oldest son and I tend to externalize our reaction to change in the form of talking.  We talk ourselves through the process of accepting the change that is taking place in our life.  My husband and youngest son tend to internalize their reaction to change.  They withdraw into periods of thought and reflection.  Any stress associated with the change tends to come out in behaviors that show their discomfort with the change that is occurring in their life.  

Change comes in many forms from minor schedule changes, to changes in employment, to births and deaths in the family.  As a family, we have been dealing with a variety of minor and major changes in our lives.  They seem to be having a cumulative effective on our youngest son who takes any change as a serious event that must be analyzed, evaluated, and added to his box of life experiences.  Even seemingly minor changes in our lives often have unforeseen implications for him.

On the last day of third grade, our youngest son left school very excited by his teacher assignment because she was the one he had wanted to get for class.  Fortunately, he also got to keep his Title I teacher and her assistant.  His speech teacher and other therapy team members would also remain unchanged.  As his parents, we heaved a sigh of relief because it appeared that there would be very little transition to see him through.  

In spite of the apparent consistency in his educational team, our son expressed anxiety about transitioning to fourth grade.  Almost from the beginning of summer break, he kept telling us it was going to be so hard.  There was going to be a ton of homework.  There were going to be three PSSA tests instead of just two tests.  As the summer progressed, so did his anxiety.  Some of our choices that were designed to help him be better prepared for middle school in two years, probably had the unintended effect of adding to that anxiety.

As I have discussed previously, our son's stuttering and blocking had become very severe over the last year.  His self feeding skills and other personal care skills were also not age appropriate.  With the thought that we had one more school year to prepare him to face middle school, we decided to re-enroll him in out-patient speech and occupational therapy (OT) services.  Although we could see improvement in his speech issues, it seemed to give him something else to fixate on.  Would he still have speech and OT at school?  If he had speech and OT at the hospital and at school, would it be too much?  He was going to have too much homework to do this other stuff too.  

Another big source of change and anxiety for our family was a change in my employment.  After eighteen years of teaching teenage females in correction settings, I was re-assigned to a Pre-k classroom.  This new assignment is 45 minutes from home.  For the first time in their lives, I am now leaving home before my sons are on the bus for the day.  Although my oldest son is in high school and more than capable of putting his brother on the bus, this change caused our youngest son a lot of concern.  Where would I be during the day?  What would I be doing?  What if he needed me?  It's really far away.  I was quite anxious about making a major transition in teaching environments but had to put my own fears on the back burner and focus a lot of energy on helping our son see this as a smooth transition.  

Just as we entered my second full week of teaching in my new assignment, the district I am contracted to went on strike.  I have now been off work waiting for the strike to end for almost three weeks.  This has opened new sources of concern.  Every day he asks "When are you going back to work Mom?"  "Are you going to work today?"  "What are you going to be doing today?"  "Where are you going today Mom?"

In addition, we have had two deaths, a birth, and a wedding all within the last month.  One of the deaths was work related but the discussion of it and the sadness expressed over it, seemed to effect him.  A wedding is a beautiful source of joy and there is nothing our son enjoys more than partying at a wedding.  But this too brings anxiety.  When is it?  Where is it?  Who will be there?  What will happen there?  The birth of my niece meant a two hour drive down to see her.  He started talking as soon as he got in the truck and continued to talk (non-stop) until we pulled in my brother's driveway.  The most recent funeral that we attended was for a long time friend that passed from the effects of Leukemia.  We attended his services and memorial dinner as a family.  Seeing our friend grieving for the loss of her husband had an impact on our youngest.  Many times that day and in recent days, he has said "She was crying Mom.  She was really sad."  It has been a great opportunity to discuss sadness and loss.  It seems to be something he is trying to make sense of in his mind and in his heart.  I'm not sure he has fully processed it yet but I think he is making progress.

As I often describe to others, our son's anxiety "comes out sideways".  His anxiety over school and homework often takes the form of picking a fight with me to vent his frustration and fear.  If I tell him I've had enough and need a break, that he needs to work with his father or brother, he clings to me and cries and begs me to keep working with him.  "I need you.  They can't help me."  It is so hard to control your frustration when you just need to step back for five minutes and he physically will not separate to let you regain your composure.  I get chest pain.  I feel like crying.  As the adult, I have to swallow that and maintain.  Sometimes, I don't want to be an adult.  Sometimes I don't want to maintain.  When you're a mom, you don't get a choice.

Our son's play often reflects where he is mentally and psychologically.  For example, this week he has been planning the funeral services for one of his stuffed animals.  Yesterday, he took his Bible out and went outside to perform a burial service for him.  He asked if the family had plans for Thursday night because that was when he was holding the funeral dinner for his stuffed animal.  A couple weeks ago, several of stuffed animals got married.  The whole family had to go down to the basement to attend the service.  He had seats set up for us and a script written of what everyone would say.  When he plays school with his stuffed animals, he often "tests" them to see how well they read or complete math worksheets he has created.  His play is often a clear window into what his mind is focused on.

Thankfully, I return to work on Monday.  I'm looking forward to having us all in a routine together again.  School has not been going as well as I would have hoped and his Title I teacher will go on maternity leave around the Christmas holiday.  I will have to make up days lost due to the strike over the holidays when the boys and my husband are off school and work.  I know these are transitions we still have to face.  I don't look forward to them but change is a fact of life.  It's our job to teach him how to accept change; help him adapt to it; and how to become stronger through his life changes.  With our support systems and lots of prayer, we'll get there some day.